


Like There's No Tomorrow

by iggyvoid



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, M/M, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:28:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21739102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iggyvoid/pseuds/iggyvoid
Summary: A seemingly perfectly conforming BL/ind employee, Nicolas Guerra, meets his fate when he is "mistakenly" placed inside of an in-mind facility alongside none other than killjoy poster child Party Poison. It's up to them to figure out what they're going to do with themselves with the time they have left.
Relationships: Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

Nicolas Guerra is an employee for BL/ind. Well renowned within his field for his efficiency, compliance and conformity. Life at the sitting desk isn't tough for him, or at least not as tough as it is for others.

Party Poison is not efficient. He is not compliant, and he is certainly not one to conform. He is the poster child for rebellion in the city and the desert alike, and boy, does he know it. 

They could not be more different. They're really on two opposite sides of the spectrum. 

Like the day and the night. Like the moon and the sun. 

But even the moon and the sun meet in summertime.


	2. Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first day of summer.  
> It's a bad day for Nicolas Guerra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOO it's finally up! I'm so happy I finally get to share this work I've been gradually working on for months now with the world. Hope you enjoy!! More chapters are coming very soon~

Day 1

Let it be known that I am so, so incredibly thankful that this journal is here to keep me sane, or else I would have lost my mind already. I have been in this place for shy of 40 minutes and I'm already driving myself up multiple walls. 

I still can't figure out where I am, or what plane of existence for that matter, but all I know is that I'm here, and I'm not alone. 

One thing I've figured out: this place is WAY too beautiful to be real. A hallucination, perhaps. A drawn-out dream sequence like in the movies. Any place this visually astonishing was wiped out by the helium war before I, or any other employees on my team, were even ideas in our mothers' heads. I've only seen places like this in pictures, low quality ones from the 00's and 10's, mostly, before the great fires. They tend to make good desktop backgrounds. But no amount of virtual reality technology could fabricate such an environment in such immaculate detail as this. 

I'm confused. Which is odd, because that scarcely happens, dear journal. Dare I say, I get confused almost zero percent of the time. But this situation has me stumped. I can't seem to figure out the what, or the when, or the why or the how- only the who, so far. 

"You've got some fancy handwriting," came a voice from behind Nicolas. 

"Aaagh! Don't sneak up on me like that!" Nicolas yelped. The small, black leather bound journal fell out of his lap along with his black pen as he jerked up. 

"Not my fault you're not used to a good scare."

Nicolas turned to face the source of the voice. "Oh god, it's you again."

"Of course it is. Who did you expect, Beyoncé?"

The owner of the voice was a killjoy. Yeah, pretty awful right? This beautiful place that surrounded him- and he had to share the space with one of the worst specimens on planet earth. What a drag. 

Nicolas was what one might consider the opposite of a killjoy, that is, a worker for Better Living Industries. Regaining his bearings, the shorter man pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose, and fixed his frazzled jet black hair. When he looked up at the killjoy, he wrinkled his nose. "What did you call yourself again?"

"Party Poison, at your ever-obedient service sir." the killjoy bowed in a sarcastic manner. Nicolas just scoffed. 

"And I suppose you're not going to tell me your *actual* name?"

"Party Poison IS my *actual* name, sir." Party Poison's expression remained deadpan. "If you mean my BL/ind-given name, then I'm afraid that no, I cannot give you that information."

The killjoy Party Poison looked quite a bit like a beat up pornodroid. Fiery shoulder-length red hair that looked like it hadn't had a good combing in months, no, years. Dirty clothes, dirty face. Did killjoys just bathe in dirt? Nevermind, don't answer that. At any rate, it was disgusting. Nicolas couldn't even bear to look at him for too long. A blue motocross jacket- dead pegasus brand, that was a popular gas company in the city. It was beyond Nicolas why he would have a jacket with a brand on it. Or why he wore a jacket at all, weren't the zones supposed to be super hot? 

And gray eyes. Real, light gray eyes. Like… ghosts. Ghost eyes. 

"So we know that Party Poison is *my* name, but I don't think I ever caught yours?" The killjoy winked. 

"Egh. Don't do that." Nicolas got up off the ground and dusted himself off. Still wearing the same white dress shirt and leather pants he were wearing before he turned up here. "My name is Nicolas Guerra. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"You too, my dude." Party Poison held out his hand for Nicolas to shake it. 

"I… don't want to touch you."

"Fair enough, fair enough, I don't remember the last time I washed my hands either." Party Poison chuckled to himself, consciously wiping his hands on his blue jacket. “That was a joke. I should probably clarify that was a joke.” 

Nicolas stuffed his journal and pen in a corner with a scoff.

"Welp. Welcome to the cavern," Party Poison yapped, sitting down again. 

You could call Nicolas's current inhabitance a "cavern", though it was small, and it was on a cliff face, but it didn't go very far into the mountain. It looked less like a naturally eroded cave and more like then result of a giant taking a scoop out of the cliffside with a spoon. Nicolas was left to wonder how Poison even got up here in the first place, let alone with a body on hand- Poison had to have carried him up here, right?

One thought led to another. Nicolas decided to start thinking about something else.

"How'd a city rat like you end up in this place anyway? As far as I'm aware this place is only for the best of the worst, if you get my drift. Did you try to escape or something?"

"What? No! I'm a BL/ind employee, why would I have any business-"

"Pfft, you sure?" The killjoy LAUGHED. How dare he laugh. "I'm pretty sure any obedient BL/ind employee wouldn't have gotten stuck in a Facility."

Nicolas' eyes widened as something clicked in his mind. "What did you say?"

"What, a facility? It's a-"

"Yeah yeah yeah, I know what a Facility is. What I'm trying to say is, this is a FACILITY?" Nicolas held his hands to his head.

"I mean, yeah. You couldn't tell coming in here that this place isn't real? There isn't a place left on Earth that looks this good. You're living a dream."

“No, no no no no no, you’re mistaken. This isn’t a Facility, this- Facilities are huge buildings made of stone with a bunch of tiny soundproof rooms with no windows where they rehabilitate battery city inhabitants who go haywire, this isn’t a fucking Facility!”

Party Poison shrugged. “They do come in many forms. This is one.”

"This isn't real. This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real," Nicolas repeated. 

"Well, yes, but actually no. Your body is probably somewhere in solitary confinement, or maybe in a BL/ind hospital, depending on what exactly happened. From what I know, they put a little chip in your brain that transports your soul here or whatever, and it kills you slowly. At any rate, you're here and you're going to die."

Nicolas started nearly hyperventilating. "Jesus fuck, could you at least say it in a nicer way?!" 

"Oh wow, the pretty boy can cuss," Party Poison murmured, somewhat impressed. "Sorry, Nico. I've been doing this for a while now, I'm kinda numb to it."

"Well I'm not! And that's not my name," Nicolas snapped.

"Whatever you say, Nico." Party Poison winked again, and Nicolas hated it. "C'mere, I wanna show you something." 

"Why should I trust you?" 

Party Poison took a long sigh. "Look, I know you probably think I'm full of shit."

"You've got that right."

"And I know it'd be a lot easier to believe if you were in any of the physical facilities. As far as I'm aware, this is the only one that takes place entirely inside your head. But I for one think that you'd be doing yourself a favor if you listened to me."

Nicolas was silent. 

"Like I know I'm just a filthy killjoy and you were probably raised being told that we're all rowdy animalistic impulsive killers who know nothing but guns and sand and loud music- and you're right, but I'm literally the only other person in this place, and I've been here for kind of a while. So if I were you I'd probably trust me."

Nicolas did not speak for another few seconds. But when Party Poison didn't continue to speak- eagerly waiting a response from him- what was he supposed to do? 

"I don't like you, Party Poison."

"That's fair."

"Let me finish!" Nicolas sighed. "I don't like you, but I'm willing to tolerate you, if you're really the only option I have to get information around here."

"So what you're saying is… you trust me?"

"No no no, let's not go crazy here-"

"Tsk, tsk! If you want my information, you gotta trust me, chief."

"Eugh….. fine. I…. 'trust' you."

"Yes!!" Party Poison cheered. "Thank you! Now can you come with me so I can show you this thing?" 

"Uhh… sure?" 

"Okay, cool. Trust me, this is super essential. Over here." 

"Okay..?" Though nervous, Nicolas followed Party Poison. By the time he reached the edge of the cliff- having would have fallen off had he taken another step- Party Poison was somehow already at the bottom, standing in the grass, looking up at Nicolas expectantly. 

It was a very steep cliff.

"If you expect me to jump down from here, you're crazy."

"No, no, no," Party Poison reassured, shaking his head. "Just scale it down. At a certain point it's easy to jump down. The grass is soft."

"Maybe trusting you was a bad idea." Nicolas reluctantly started scaling down the cliffside. Party Poison watched his movements curiously. He got to the point where he was hanging off the edge by his hands, and slipped off, landing on the grass. Other than a slight cramp in his ankle, he was unharmed. Party Poison had been right- the grass was soft. 

"See? Was that so hard?" Poison grinned. 

"Would have been easier with a ladder, or something. Nicolas dusted himself off. 

"Ah, yes, a ladder- with the wood and glue that I just have, on hand." Poison chuckled, and started gesturing to Nicolas. "Follow me."

Party Poison started walking, and Nicolas followed not far behind. The padding of his bare feet in the soft lush grass was somehow inviting. At that point, all he could see from this spot was the tops of the trees- even that was enough to enamour him. But when Party Poison led him to the edge…

Woah.

Nothing more tranquil existed anywhere in the universe. No amount of default windows wallpapers could hold up to this. The quiet running of the water far below filled the entire- place? Was this a place? Was it confined? Questions. Nicolas had a lot of them. None of the would end up being answered. 

From somewhere, Nicolas could hear the sound of trickling water, and the chirping of birds that didn't exist. The grass below his boots was so, so real. But it wasn't. The scene made Nicolas want to laugh until he cried. 

"It's sure something, huh?" Party Poison mused. 

"Y-yeeaahheah," was the sound that Nicolas replied with. He couldn't even form a coherent word. 

"You okay?" Party Poison turned away from the beautiful scene back to Nicolas, those ghostly eyes holding concern. 

"Ha ha ha ha ha no," Nicolas said monotonously. His gaze still affixed on his surroundings, not able to pry his vision away from the sight. 

"Shit, you good? Nevermind, don't answer that. What's wrong?" 

"Uhh, yeah, I think I’m going to pass out in a second."

"Oh. Well that's not good." 

"Wow, you're so intuitive," Nicolas replied, his expression staying the same. 

"I'll get you some cold water. Stay where you are, try not to die."

Try not to die. That's easy, right? 

Party Poison was gone for about three minutes. In that time, Nicolas successfully avoided death. Which was a lucky strike, because those were probably the longest three minutes of his life, and it felt like he could give out at any second. 

The padding of Party Poison's lewis leathers in the lush grass alerted what was left of Nicolas' senses. Two seconds later, Nicolas got absolutely DRENCHED with cold water. 

The now dripping-wet BL/ind employee turned to Party Poison, shivering. "The hell was that for??"

"To realign your senses," Party Poison answered calmly, putting down a small metal box, which seemed to be where the water had come from. Nicolas didn't know how so much water had fit into such a small box, but what was worth questioning at that point. 

Nicolas rolled his eyes. "I was kind of expecting a drink, not a dousing."

"See? You're acting normally again. Pissy as usual. Works like a charm."

"How'd you know to do that?"

Party Poison shrugged. "In the desert, tons of killjoys can go glassy because of heat exhaustion and drugs and all that. So it's good to know what to do. I'm used to it."

Nicolas nodded. "Alright." 

As Nicolas got up, attempting to wipe the remnants of the cold water off of his face and clothes, Party Poison stared him down. "I don't think that was the correct response, sir."

"Uhhh.." Nicolas pulled on his collar. "Congratulations?"

Party Poison rolled his eyes. "In the desert, usually someone helping you out warrants a 'thank you'. Aren't y'all high-end rats in the city taught manners?"

..Nicolas swallowed. He wasn't sure why this killjoy thought he was high-end, but it was certainly a bold assumption to make. Was he joking? Should Nicolas assume he's joking? 

"In the city, usually someone helping you out warrants a payment," Nicolas murmured.

Party Poison stared at his boots. 

"Thank you for dumping a gallon of water on me," Nicolas stated. "To be fair, I do feel better now."

"Psh, don't sweat it, pretty boy. Lemme show you around."

"O-ok."


	3. Nico(las)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicolas gets shown around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year! sorry these chapters are gonna be fairly short compared to the length of my previous fic, that's mostly to save time since i have studies and stuff. hope you enjoy, i know this isnt a very substantial chapter but itll start to pick up in no time dont worry ^^

Day 1½ (update)

Well... now that I know exactly what my circumstances are, I think I might hate it here all the more. 

I continue to hope that this journal, at the very least, will be here to keep me sane, but between the confinement and the companionship, I fear I will go absolutely out of my mind within mere days. 

Party Poison, which is what I will continue to refer to him as, has proven to be an irritation. He seems to be the very encapsulation of everything BL/ind is against. No wonder he lives (or lived) in the zones. He couldn't have ever been caught alive in the city, not while looking like that. 

He exudes an energy that is hard to describe. I've never actually talked to anyone who was ever off of the medication, though the closest I've gotten is having talked briefly to people in secondary school who attempted to escape the city- some fruitlessly. Since I have no medication with me at this point in time, it might be only a matter of time until I start to turn. I can only hope that I can stay sane enough in my time here that I won't turn. 

During my tour of the area, Party Poison showed me what he called the Borders. They're not *actually* Borders, not in the traditional sense, merely places where reality starts to phase out. I have been informed, quite adamantly, that I should avoid the Borders entirely. While I'm still on the fence on trusting killjoys, I'm going to take his word for it. 

Within the last 24 hours, I have discovered one new scars on my face, on my chin and lower lip. It looks old, and clearly hadn't bled for some time, but it also A. does not appear to have faded and B. literally wasn't there a day ago. Party Poison says that the scars were what made him think I was one of them. I am both appalled at this assumption of his, and utterly confused as to where this scar could have possibly come from. It's probably nothing. It's not like I'll ever be able to recall exactly what happened. If I were to guess, probably a medical procedure that happened while I was out. Although I don't know why it would be on my chin though, and not my brain.

In any case, it hurts when I touch my face, so maybe I'll avoid that. 

***

"So how's your second day going?" 

The frankly annoying voice of Nicolas Guerra’s killjoy accomplice echoed from the outside of the cavern. Party Poison's silhouette stood akimbo, facing away from the inner cavern. 

"It's going," Nicolas grumbled. 

"Aw, don't be such a Delia Downer." 

Nicolas looked up. "Isn't it Debbie Downer?"

"Eh, I dunno. I haven't read a book since I was fourteen." 

"Ahh, yep. That-" Nicolas crossed his arms. "That'll do it." 

Party Poison rolled his eyes. "I don't even know who Debbie Downer is. Is that like a… Jane Austen character or..?"

Nicolas snorted with a condescending giggle. "Not even close."

"Well, whatever. It's not like reading's important." Party Poison rolled his eyes. 

"I disagree, reading is one of the most important skills a person can have." 

"So is knowing how to kill," Party Poison replied. Without skipping a beat. Without batting an eye. "But they only teach elites that in the city, don't they?"

That… was a fair point. But was Nicolas about to admit that? No. 

Change the subject. Now. 

Nicolas clicked his tongue. "Hey, what time does the water rise?"

"All the time. Constantly. Slowly, though. Gives us enough time to plan everything out."

Nico tilted his head. "Plan what out?" 

"What we're gonna do when the water gets up here, dummy. I've been working on carving out a boat from a log-"

"You're working on carving out a boat? You've been hear for what, years and it's still in progress??"

Party Poison giggled in a 'you idiot' sort of way. "Do you know how hard it is to cut down a tree when you don't have an axe?"

Nicolas bit his tongue. "...Fair point."

Party Poison just shrugged. “To be fair, I think this time around I might actually get it finished. You might get to see the day where Party Poison floats in a goddamn boat. And you too.”

“Mm. Well, that'll be a convenience. See, I don't exactly know how to swim. There's not really open water anywhere in the city."

"There's not really open water anywhere in the desert, either.". Party Poison smirked. "So I guess we're-"

"Don't."

Party Poison choked back his laughter. "I guess you could say we're in-"

"STOP."

"We're in the same boat?"

"AAAAAAH I DON'T LIKE YOU."

"I think you've said that," Party Poison noted, still giggling. "I wasn't not gonna take the pun."

"Ugh, you're so… aaaagh."

"I'm so what? Killjoyish?" Party Poison's ghostly eyes glinted. 

"..Yes. You are killjoyish, Party Poison."

"Oh, you can just call me Poison, by the way. You don't have to use my full name every time."

"Oh. Alright." Nicolas didn't know much about the etiquette of killjoy names. He wasn't keen on learning about killjoys period. 

Pa… Poison…. Turned to the sky- it wasn't really a sky, was it? Turned to whatever was going on up there… and it was turning scarlet, having been blue before, as skies usually were. Seeing as this whole thing was artificial, Nicolas didn't intend on referring to it as its normal counterpart, but what would it be instead? The Fake Sky? Who cares.

Nicolas fixed his round glasses, following Poison's gaze. 

He really did have to keep reminding himself it wasn't real. 

"I know it doesn't seem real," Poison said, as if he had read Nicolas's mind. "But it's not necessarily fake either."

Nicolas tilted his head. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're real," Poison pointed out obviously. "I'm real, as far as I'm aware."

"And?"

"And we're here."

Nicolas raised an eyebrow. "How profound of you."

Poison giggled, pushing a red lock of hair out of his face. He turned to face the sky and his eyes narrowed. Immediately after, he turned to face Nicolas- their eyes meeting. 

Is he going to say something?

He sighed. "It's getting late."

"The sun is only just going down, shouldn't it only be like 7pm?"

"Time barely exists here. You should get sleep now."

"But-"

Poison tsked. "I don't wanna see you awake after sundown. You're gonna need all the sleep you can get now because you won't be getting much later."

"Vague, threatening. I'll take your word for it."

"Good." Poison snickered. 

Nicolas placed his hands on his hips. His eyes darted around. "Where am I sleeping anyway? It's not like there's-"

"Aaaahhhhh." Poison exhaled. "Yeah, you're probably not used to sleeping on the ground, huh?"

"Not exactly!" Nicolas didn't recall having ever slept on a surface deemed uncomfortable. I guess there's a first for everything.

"Ah, well, that should be the first thing you get used to." Poison gestured generally to one corner of the cavern- the corner that was also a huge pile of leaves. Nicolas had thought it was just… a pile of leaves. 

"Jeez," Nicolas remarked. "That's gotta be real bad for your back."

"Better for your back than a sitting desk." Poison winked. "You can have the leaves."

"What, you wanna sleep on the hard floor?" 

"I'm not gonna sleep at all." Poison said this blatantly, as if it made sense. 

"What?" Nicolas chuckled, but only because he was confused. "What??"

"I don't need sleep. At least not as much as you do. Your pills regulate your sleep schedule, and you have severe curfew regulations. It's easy to just stop sleeping for a while if you don't give a shit."

Nicolas crossed his arms, his mind still churning trying to process how or why someone would purposefully avoid sleep. "Lack of sleep negatively affects performance!"

"Nico, what the hell do you think I do around here most of the time?"

Nicolas would correct Poison on his name, but he was too busy trying and failing to answer the question. In the end, Poison got to the answer for him.

"I run," Poison answered. "And I swim. Chase birds. Meditate. Boring shit. It's not the most exciting life." 

"Neither is the city."

Poison paused, glancing straight into Nicolas's eyes, giving him a perfect view of his eyes and how weird they were. Nicolas was beginning to swear that there were dead people in there or something, they were so grey. 

"..Nico?"

"Wait, I didn't-"

An evil smile crept across Poison's face. His eyes crinkled and lit up, and he wrung his hands like a cartoon villain. 

"Listen, I- I didn't mean to- my name's not Nico!!"

Poison BURST into laughter. Like, holding your stomach, covering your mouth laughter. Poison's laugh reminded Nicolas of a song that he had never heard. 

Nicolas tensed up. "What's so funny? Stop laughing!" 

The red-haired killjoy wiped a tear from his eye and patted Nicolas firmly on the shoulder. "Ahhh, I knew you had it in you, Nico," he said between giggles. "You're meant to be here, trust me."

Nicolas growled, tensing up even more. Before he could protest, Poison kept going. 

"Ah, have a good rest, Nico. You need it." Party Poison flicked Nicolas's forehead, causing him to stumble back a bit, then spun around and sashayed out of the cavern, starting to descend the cliffside. 

"That bitch," Nicolas mumbled. He curled up in the pile of leaves and attempted to get comfortable.


End file.
